Pleasing Pain
by Dreamingfishy
Summary: As I hear her sobs in my recollections…they now please me, to watch her cry. It made me happy to think about her broken heart or her red and puffy eyes. All that sorrow in her soul filling me pleasingly. Rated T to be safe


**So I'm hoping this turns out how I want it to without getting all off track.**

**Anyways~ don't read if you're not one to like death, and supernatural, and horror, and death, and curses…****I am not a medium, as some people have asked me…**

**I don't own Pokémon…I think that is quite clear**

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**Pleasing Pain**

Trash, garbage, stupid, worthless, foul, foolish, pointless, idiotic, old, useless, silly, weird, bad, ugly, rubbish…

All words that can sting your brain when directed towards your simple stuffed body. They hurt more when they come from the tongue of the young girl you watched grown up. And you could never do a thing about it.

I remember when she was young. She would dress me in a silly hat and set me down on a tiny wooden chair. She would pour air from a small teapot into a cup placed in front of me and move my arms to pick it up and drink the so-called 'tea.' The young girl would speak for me, since my lips were forever sewed into a smile.

She grew up. I sat in the corner on a shelf to watch the whole room before me change with age. I watched her get taller and I saw her hair grow day by day. For her to walk back in with the locks cut clean of inches without a second thought. I saw her friends' sleepover parties where they talked and laughed, never once taking a look at the old doll on the self. I read and learned from the homework and books that would litter the carpet. I saw every boyfriend she brought back home for dinner and I saw her cry on her bed in suffering loss when they would leave her behind. I knew I could never comfort her as I used to be held in her arms tightly. Salty tears dripping and soaking into my fabricated skin.

I supposed I got too old for her tastes. I was no longer desired to keep around and watch. She picked me up for those last few seconds and stared into my open eyes and welcoming smile. I could sense those memories of play dates with friends and teatime flash past her eyes without a thought. She tossed me into a dark cardboard box and forgot.

One week. One week I sat in that box in a dumpster. Thrown without a care, like the nothingness that fills her head. I had one week to think. One week to plan and plot the things I knew I could never accomplish. One week to truly understand when people would say 'everything good comes to an end.' Some lives are cut short, while others prosper and lift into the light. Well there was no light in that ally. I could only listen to the bickering of hate and the sorrowful wails of mourning for that which has been lost.

Soon enough the truck came. I heard it's ringing songs play as they grew louder and louder. I waited for my final death to come as I would be crushed and torn into shreds. I waited. I waited. But it never came. The songs stopped and those moments of suspense had me thinking _'Kill me already. Get it over with…Let me forget.'_ I will never forget.

The truck missed the box I was in as it fell to the ground further back into the ally. My body tumbled out and I stared at the sky. The carefree clouds in the blue sky didn't have feelings. They would never know of pain or hatred. Love or loss.

I sat and watched every single one of those clouds pass by the small opening the ally created. A few more days passed. The sun rose and fell, and then the moon repeated the circle. Casting recurring shadows over my body. Soon thought I felt strangely different. Even at the time I had no real nerves, I could feel a strong presence. My gut stuffing got dense and heavy. I felt cold for the first time. Then something dark turned through my fingers. This energy I was now feeling in my rag limbs…hurt.

I felt pain split as my arms got the vigor. I forced my eyes closed for the first time. I had always been made to stare and watch as the ones I loved walked away. Now seeing only the darkness I was used to, the pain felt even more unbearable. My arms ached as they grew and my legs shortened. The back of my head pounded out to a beat with no melody. It stung and tore at my stuffing inside. I felt something form in my mouth which had hollowed out. I could taste it. Gaseous and dark. Powerful, bitter, and harsh. The fabrics and stitching holding my body together grew dark as did my mind.

For another day, I sat on the ground. When the sun arose to shine down its warmth, my body immediately began to sting and I felt weak. As soon as I could see, without the light of day, I moved. I willed my new arms and legs to move along with what my mind wanted them to. I picked up my head with all the strength I could manage. Slowly, I crawled my way over to a small puddle against the cobblestone.

There staring back was my own self. I was horrified of what I had become. All fabric-skin was changed to a blackened matter. My synthetic hair turned dark, and the sewed smiled became a golden zipper. I picked up my long, weak arms and grabbed hold of the triangle piece hanging from the sing of my zipper. Pulling it slowly, I opened my mouth.

The energy I had felt and tasted leaked out. I felt my insides collapse and body grow weaker by the second. As fast as I could, I closed the zipper and stared back into my red eyes. They glowed bright, despite the darkness of the ally way. My heavy head spun behind me to the pitch black of the end of the ally. A voice had spoken, yet my ears failed to hear the whisper. I dragged my body back towards it; unafraid of what could possibly have a voice so quiet yet chilling the air.

"You must have a lot of hate in you. It's not every day a Banette is born." I looked up to come face to face with two glowing crimson eyes. Without jumping back, all the memories of years of pain and watching the young girl grow flooded into my mind. All of the days I sat on the shelf and gathered dust. When I would sit back and watch her cry. As I hear her sobs in my recollections…they now please me, to watch her cry. It made me happy to think about her broken heart or her red and puffy eyes. All that sorrow in her soul filling me pleasingly.

A power surged through me.

And I stood.

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**Annnnnd done. I hope that was alright. It certainly satified my writing in the middle of the blackness of night outside on my porch, wondering what creature is resting there in the forest by my home, waiting for me to let my gaurd down to attack and suck out my brains...Just kidding don't listen to me~ Just a weird kid rambling over here...Oh look...a coyote...**


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